


Delirium

by nyoka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoka/pseuds/nyoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're learning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> For my dear friend Smilla, who asked for some smutty Dean/Bela. Originally posted [here](http://nyokafic.tumblr.com/post/35080275585/fic-delirium-dean-bela).

*

Bela is like smoke, a soft darkness that curls across Dean’s skin, rolling slippery and warm against him as they rut on the crisp, expensive sheets of her hotel bed. She’s smiling like the cat that caught the canary as she lifts her hips for him, changing the angle, making it tighter, sweeter.

So fucking tight, Dean has to hold himself still for a few moments to keep from coming too soon, pressing his head down hard against the pillow as she sinks herself down on his cock over and over again. Goddamn, but her cunt is like a smooth, velvet fist around him.

"Move, Winchester," she breathes, and Dean pushes up into her harder, sliding in to the hilt. He starts moving, and she starts muttering a stream of the filthiest shit Dean’s ever heard, bouncing up and down on top of him like they’re at the goddamn rodeo, her ass slapping against his balls in some off-beat rhythm Dean’s going to be hearing in his head for days.

She rides him fast and dirty, begging for _more_ , _harder_ , _now_ , and Dean races to meet her, thrusting deeper, fucking her long and hard until he feels her walls clamping down around him, her muscles squeezing relentlessly. _Jesus fucking Christ._ She’s overwhelming.

Bela shouts Dean’s name as she milks him dry, her fingernails biting into his hips, and her movements slowing down as she works out the last of her orgasm. Dean’s eyes meet her heavy gaze as he finally lets go himself, spilling in hot bursts inside of her.

Their breathing is loud in the room as they come down, and Dean’s shaking, feeling like he just passed some test.

"I like your idea of angry sex," Dean groans as she eases off of him, tossing the condom to the floor.

She smiles wickedly and swipes at the damp hair plastered across her forehead. “Always the sweettalker, Dean.”

"You know me," Dean breathes out.

"No, I don’t," Bela whispers, guiding his hand between her legs, where his fingers find her slick wetness, slipping along the sensitive, swollen flesh of her.

Then she’s leaning close, and her hands are in his hair, her mouth open on his cheek, her wet, warm breath falling against his skin. “But I’m learning,” she adds, and her tits slide up against his chest as she crawls into his lap again, kisses him deeply, her hands pulling at the back of his head.

Yeah, Dean’s learning too.


End file.
